


The Bandits

by impalaloompa



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, geralt has a stick up his arse, hurt/jaskier, jaskier is just trying to be his friend, protective/geralt, they both get captured by bandits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:54:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalaloompa/pseuds/impalaloompa
Summary: There were four men standing around Geralt who appeared to be bound and half unconscious.Roach was stamping furiously from where she had been tied to a tree."Shit," Jaskier hissed, ducking behind the rock again.Alone he could take on one bandit, maybe two if he got lucky but not four. And he had no weapon. The knife Geralt had given him was tucked neatly away in Roach's saddle bag.Jaskier leaned out to glance at Roach but there was no way to get to her without being seen.One of the men laughed and Jaskier's blood ran cold as he saw the man brandishing the Witcher's sword.What to do? What to do? He had to do something. But what?
Comments: 10
Kudos: 367





	The Bandits

Perched on a rock overlooking the rolling hills and farmland below sat Jaskier, the Bard, plucking at his lute, humming along and pausing every now and then to jot something down in his notebook. 

The mid-afternoon sun beat a pleasant warmth over his skin and he couldn't remember the last time he had been this content.

Just composing and traveling. Not necessarily heading anywhere in particular. No end game. No urgency. No looming peril. Just him, his lute and the open sky.

A clatter sounded behind him and he turned to cast a glance at the burly Witcher stacking firewood in preparation to make camp.

Just him, his lute, the open sky and Geralt. 

The Witcher's chestnut mare snorted and Geralt looked at her fondly.

And Roach.

It was strange. Usually when he joined the White Wolf as a travelling companion there was some sort of monster or other trouble lurking at their destination. But when he had met Geralt at a tavern about a week back and chosen to follow him again in hopes of creating a new Ballad of their adventures, the Witcher had seemed, off. Distant. Or, at least, more distant than he usually was. He seemed to be just... wandering.

Not that Jaskier minded. He welcomed the peace. And it did provide more opportunities to incite conversion, not that he really expected Geralt to partake in the whims of human social interaction.

He watched as Geralt slotted the wood into one of the bags slung over Roach then dusted his hands off.

The Witcher became aware of Jaskier looking at him and turned his amber glare on the Bard.

"You stopped playing," he gruffed.

"Oh did you like it?" Jaskier spun round to fully face him, lute still resting in his lap.

"No," Geralt said dryly, "it just means that now I have to pretend to listen to you talk instead pretend to listen to you play."

Jaskier huffed in offence.

"I know you've been particularly crabby these past few days but there's no need to be rude," Jaskier slipped off the rock and sauntered towards his friend, "I was just wondering if we were making camp here or going further along the hill?"

Geralt grunted at him, then looped his fingers into Roach's reins and started walking away up the steady incline.

"Great so I guess we're moving on then. Good to know," the Bard quickly placed his lute in its case, slung it over his shoulder and jogged to catch up with Geralt.

"You know," Jaskier fell into step beside the Witcher, "I couldn't help but notice that you've not really been yourself lately, which I'm completely fine with by the way, you're much more pleasant to be around when you're just brooding and not insulting me, apart from back there, that was... that was mean. But anyway I couldn't help but notice that you're lacking a certain... certain zest. When was the last time you actually killed a monster?"

Geralt said nothing. He kept his stoic gaze on the road in front of him.

"I mean, you're a Witcher, that's what Witchers do. It'd be like me not trying to compose a song every spare minute I get. It's just weird. Unnatural. You're being weird and unnatural Geralt and I don't like it. In fact - what?"

Geralt had stopped, scanning the path in front of them with a frown.

"Geralt?" Jaskier peered at him.

"Nothing," Geralt grumbled. He strode off again, Roach plodding obediently behind him.

"You know you can talk to me," Jaskier caught up with him again, readjusting his lute strap as he went, "We are friends Geralt, I want to help you - "

"We are not friends. And I don't need your help," Geralt growled at him picking up the pace.

"No, because you see, we are friends and we have this conversation a lot but -" 

"Jaskier, just shut up," Geralt snapped.

Jaskier flinched back. He thought he saw a flash of guilt cross the Witcher's face but it was gone as quickly as it formed. He resolved himself to miserable silence, deliberately lagging behind so he could mope without Geralt seeing.

He was determined to get to the bottom of the Witcher's problem even if it killed him. Okay well maybe not killed him. Slightly inconvenienced maybe.

The uncharacteristic silence was unnerving Geralt and Jaskier could see it in the way his jaw muscles flexed.

Good, he thought to himself, Two can play at this game.

They continued on for about another half hour before Geralt broke the silence.

"Jaskier, up ahead, the rocks. You see it?"

"What? that big outcrop of large grey pointy things? Nope don't see it," he teased.

Geralt didn't take him on.

"We'll camp there. More sheltered. Go and find a stream to fill our water skins."

"How do you even know if there's a stream or whatever close by?" Jaskier complained.

"Because I can hear it. Over there. Go now and you'll be back before night fall," Geralt took the skins from the saddle bag, thrust them at Jaskier then marched towards the rocks.

"Go now and you'll be back before nightfall," Jaskier mimicked Geralt's deep gravely voice. 

He trudged in the direction Geralt had pointed out, weaving through boulders and heather. The few lone trees became more of a cluster the further he walked until he was under a canopy of branches and leaves.

Before long he could hear the merry burbling of water.

"Well, okay fine then," Jaskier grumbled to himself. 

He bent down to top up the water skins when a twig snapped to his left, incredibly close. Jaskier whipped round but there was nothing there. His skin began to prickle and a sense of unease settled over him. 

He gathered up the now full skins but remained crouched by the streams edge for a moment.

"Hello?" he called. He wasn't really sure what he'd do if he got an answer but there was no noise apart from the running water.

"Okay. It's alright Jaskier. Probably a bird or something," he reassured himself.

The Bard made his way back to the rocky outcrop, the sun slowly sinking down the horizon, but stopped in his tracks when he emerged back onto the path. 

His breath caught in his chest and he dived down behind the nearest bolder, blood thrumming in his ears.

The water skins forgotten, he peeked over the rock.

There were four men standing around Geralt who appeared to be bound and half unconscious. 

Roach was stamping furiously from where she had been tied to a tree.

"Shit," Jaskier hissed, ducking behind the rock again.

Alone he could take on one bandit, maybe two if he got lucky but not four. And he had no weapon. The knife Geralt had given him was tucked neatly away in Roach's saddle bag.

Jaskier leaned out to glance at Roach but there was no way to get to her without being seen.

One of the men laughed and Jaskier's blood ran cold as he saw the man brandishing the Witcher's sword. 

What to do? What to do? He had to do something. But what? 

The four men standing around Geralt jeered and jibed at him. They couldn't believe how easy it was to take down the great White Wolf.

"Because you ambushed me. In a fair fight you'd never stand a chance," Geralt growled only to receive a foot to the chest. He grunted in pain.

The taller of the men advanced on him, taking great care to make sure the Witcher could see his face.

"We've been tracking you for days. Just wait until our companion brings back the Bard and then we'll have a nice long chat." 

He was close enough to Geralt so that Geralt could smell his breath. The Witcher wrinkled his nose and then crashed his forehead into the man's face. 

The bandit scrambled back clutching his broken nose, blood streaming through his fingers.

The other three men, distracted by helping him, didn't see Jaskier sneaking up behind them.

The Bard swung his lute hard and clattered one of the bandits on the back of the head. The man fell to the ground. Jaskier swung again and took out another bandit before they had a chance to realise what was going on. 

"Yeah!" he jubilated, "Take that you bastards!" 

The third bandit advanced on him, wielding Gerald's sword. Jaskier, buzzing with adrenaline, circled him slowly, trying to put himself between the men and the Witcher.

"Jaskier? What are you doing?" Geralt seethed.

"Saving you, you ass. What does it look like?" 

In his moments distraction, the bandit with the sword lunged at him. Jaskier danced out of the way just in time and the man fell over the other with the broken nose.

"Jaskier - " before Geralt could warn him, the fifth bandit, the one who had been sent out to get the Bard appeared behind Jaskier and pressed a cold, sharp blade to his neck.

Jaskier froze, a strangled sound escaping his throat.

"Drop the lute," the bandit hissed.

Jaskier did as he was told and Geralt watched helplessly as the Bard was dragged backwards, forced to the ground and kicked viciously in the stomach. 

The noise Jaskier made had Geralt straining at his ropes.

"Tie him up," the fifth bandit ordered. The two Jaskier had knocked down with his lute scrambled to their feet, roughly bound Jaskier's hands behind his back and hauled him over next to Geralt.

The bandits busied themselves making a fire and tending to their injuries.

"What the hell did you think that would achieve?" Geralt hissed at the Bard.

"I don't know. I panicked," Jaskier shuffled into a more comfortable sitting position and wriggled around a bit, testing the strength of his bonds.

"Don't do anything else stupid. I'll get us out of here," Geralt narrowed his eyes at the bandits.

"And how are you going to do that, Geralt? Hmm? Because as I see it we are totally and royally fucked," Jaskier snapped back. 

"Shut up," one of the bandits snarled over his shoulder.

"Alas good sir, I'm afraid I cannot. You see in situations of mortal peril there is a certain decorum I expect of myself and - " Jaskier was cut short as a fist collided with his face. 

"Leave off him. He's just a Bard," Geralt snarled.

"But he's not just a Bard, is he?" The fifth bandit grabbed Jaskier's chin to force the young man to look at him, "He's your Bard."

The way he said 'your' sent a chill down Geralt's spine. 

Jaskier glowered defiantly under the man's harsh touch and the bandit scoffed at him. Blood was leaking from the corner of the Bard's mouth.

"You said you'd been tracking us. Why?" Geralt growled, trying to distract the bandit's attention from Jaskier.

The man let go of Jaskier and crouched in front of Geralt, not making the same mistake the other man had made by keeping his distance.

Jaskier shuffled back a little, still wriggling around in his ropes.

"There's a price on your head Geralt of Rivia. Our... 'employer' is willing to pay us handsomely for your capture," the bandit sneered at him.

"Why?" Geralt gruffed.

"Because you're different to other Witchers and he wants to find out why," the bandit stood up and returned to the fire, "It's your Bard he's particularly interested in. What's so special about him, eh?"

"Nothing. He tags along for the ride sometimes, but that's it," Geralt said through gritted teeth.

If he didn't know Geralt was trying to protect him, Jaskier would have been hurt. The Bard twisted some more. He almost had one hand free.

"But you let him tag along. Witchers are solitary hunters. Going where the coin and quest takes them. But not you," the bandit was watching him curiously.

Geralt didn't answer. He just stared at the man, his amber eyes burning.

"Huh," the bandit sighed, "lets see shall we."

He nodded to one of the others and the bandit rose from his seat by the fire and advanced on Jaskier.

Geralt tensed as Jaskier squirmed in the man's strong grasp, hauled to his feet.

Jaskier's hand slipped free of the ropes and he clamped both hands on the bandits face, aiming for vulnerable parts.

He was torn off the bandit by another and thrown harshly to the ground. Jaskier landed hard and yelped in pain.

Again, Geralt struggled in his bonds as Jaskier was pulled over to the fire with one arm twisted painfully up his back, the other being held out towards the flame.

"Slippery bastard," the fifth bandit mused. He glanced at the Witcher as Jaskier was held there, hand inches from the red hot flames.

"Let. Him. Go," Geralt thundered,

"Not until you give me something, anything, to prove you're not like the others," when Geralt didn't say anything, the bandit sighed, "I'll do it you know." 

Again Geralt only glared so the bandit nodded his head at Jaskier's restrainer and they forced him closer to the fire.

"Oh gods, no! Geralt! Geralt please!" Jaskier howled as the heat on his hand became unbearable.

Geralt grit his teeth, jaw clenched. Jaskier was struggling and fighting to get away, trembling all over, and Geralt could almost taste his fear, but he was held fast and Geralt had to make a decision.

Jaskier screamed as he was pushed even closer and Geralt snapped.

"Fuck," he conceded, "Okay fine. I need him. Now let him go."

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" The bandit signalled to the other to let the Bard go. 

They dropped him and Jaskier rolled away, clutching his hand to his chest, breath sobbing in his chest.

The Bard struggled to his knees and a rough hand clamped onto the back of his neck to stop him going anywhere. He let himself be pushed back down and that's when he saw it. Geralt' sword. Lying on the rock about a foot away from him.

He glanced back at Geralt, desperately trying to catch his eye.

The Witcher was staring down the forth bandit, now circling him.

"Geralt," Jaskier rasped and was rewarded with a boot stamping on his back, forcing the air out his lungs.

Luckily, Geralt looked at him. Jaskier flicked his eyes between the Witcher and the sword hoping that Geralt understood.

Geralt's jaw twitched and he inclined his head slightly. He understood.

The Witcher lunged at the bandit circling him as best he could in his restraints. The bandit stumbled backwards, crashing into the rock behind him. In the distraction, Jaskier used all of his strength to launch himself at the sword, taking the bandit above him by surprise. He wrapped his fingers round the hilt, but it was heavier than he expected and he fell into the rocks, scraping his left side down the surface. 

Geralt kicked the fifth bandit as the others tried to catch hold of him but he whirled round and barrelled into the nearest of them.

Jaskier scrambled to his feet, dragging the sword with him. He ducked the bandit that had been restraining him and lifted the sword as high as he could.

"Geralt!" he shouted, and threw the sword as hard as he could.

Geralt spun round and caught the sword behind his back. He sliced up and nicked the ropes binding him and he was able to tear free. 

Now with sword in hand and rage boiling his blood, Geralt charged at the bandits. He managed to slice one down as they fled. 

Jaskier slumped to the ground, breathing ragged as he watched the Witcher chase the bandits away. 

It wasn't long before Geralt was back at his side, kneeling next to him and checking his injuries. His hand wasn't badly burned and would heal quite quickly if treated properly. 

Geralt got a few things out of Roach's saddle bag, sat next to Jaskier again and set to work.

Jaskier hissed in pain and tried to hold back the emotions racing through him as Geralt tended to him.

"We make a good team, huh?" he murmured.

"Rest Jaskier," the Witcher grumbled.

"You need me?" Jaskier blinked at him, his chest tight.

Geralt sighed.

"You are... my friend Jaskier. My only friend. Of course I need you."

"Oh," Jaskier's voice trembled and a tear leaked down his cheek.

If Geralt noticed, he didn't say anything.

"So... so why have you been such a bitch these last few days?" Geralt quirked an eyebrow at him but put his choice of words down to the fact he was exhausted and in pain.

"Because..." Geralt rested his Amber eyes on the young Bard, "I've been denying that part of myself for so long. And if I let you in..."

"I get it. I do," Jaskier cast his eyes down, "it's... fine."

"No, Jaskier it's not. And... I'm sorry."

"Did you? Just apologise to me? Oh wow, is it my birthday or something? Did the great Geralt of Rivia actually just apologise to me? The humble Bard whose been trying to be your friend for, what? Years now. And you're finally - " 

"All right, all right Bard, " Geralt tied off the bandage he had been wrapping around Jaskier's hand.

"I think you owe me an ale. Maybe two," Jaskier pushed himself upright, "you know, on account of saving your life and everything."

"Who saved who's life?" Geralt stood.

"Alright, alright, one ale. But just remember this is your fault and I expect to be lathered with your good graces from now on," Jaskier held out his good hand and Geralt took it, pulling him to his feet. 

Jaskier swayed, knees threatening to buckle and Geralt steadied him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Can you walk?" Geralt asked.

"Actually, maybe we'd be better just spending the night here, rather than stumbling down a hillside, in the dark," Jaskier eased himself down again.

Geralt shook his head slightly and went to move the dead bandit out of their camp. On his way back he spotted something among the rocks and a small smile etched his lips.

Jaskier blinked slowly. Tiredness catching up on him. He watched the fire dance and felt his head get heavy.

"Here," Jaskier jumped as Geralt thrust his lute under his nose.

"Oh yes, my beautiful baby. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," Jaskier caressed the lute before checking it over for damage.

Geralt watched the Bard for a moment before turning to check on Roach.

For the first time in his life he had a friend. And he still didn't know if letting himself get close to Jaskier was the wisest thing to do.


End file.
